limited infinities
by the alphabet soup
Summary: In the end, all of your choices will amount to nothing. / A collection of drabbles originally posted to tumblr.
1. again

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** again

**Setting:** After the events of _The Fall of Five._

* * *

He stands before her, his clothes the same as the day he had been unjustly killed. A seemingly irreplaceable grin is spread wide on his tired face while his vibrant green eyes display more life than should be possible. Time stops as she steps towards him, her arms limp at her sides and her eyes wide with surprise, amazement, _relief_.

"Eight."

Her voice is barely above a whisper because if she dares to speak louder she fears she will wake up from this dream and be launched back into the reality that he is dead and cannot come back. Because death cannot reverse for anyone, not even a Loric.

His green eyes look down at the floor beneath him — she realizes the floor is the same as the hotel floor's lobby, and for a moment, the faint whisper of a moment, she gives into the hope — and his smile begins to fade. "When did your hope finally leave you?" he asks with the tone of a heartbroken, lonely man.

She swallows — an action she never remembers being conscious of in her dreams — and she meets his eyes which look nothing like the eyes she used to always see. "When you died." she says simply and for once her voice doesn't crack at the mention of his death. He smiles sadly and she notices how the light falls on his body through the glass windows, and she notices the chill of the air gradually embracing the cold, and her mouth goes dry.

"Eight." she repeats with difficulty and he smiles.

"I'm not a dream, Marina. I'm really here."

And when her walls come down, and they embrace, he holds her in his arms and she is once again filled with the euphoria she never believed would again grace her with its presence.


	2. fool's lament

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** fool's lament

**Setting:** During TFoF.

* * *

Five watches as the sword enters Eight's heart. The anger he felt only seconds before turns to a realization the same shade as the blood which seeps through Eight's shirt. He registers Seven's screams of anguish before he feels the heat of a scar burning into his flesh on his own leg, and a pit falls into his stomach.

_No. You weren't supposed to die. Why did you protect him? You weren't meant to protect him!_

He pulls the sword out hurriedly and not lavishly like he had once dreamed of doing. Words formulate in his mind, but he is unable to speak them. Instead all he feels is the weight of the death of his own kin on his shoulders, and he cannot help but feel guilt.

_Nine was supposed to die. Not you._

For the first time, he feels something like doubt for the Mogadorians in the back of his mind.


	3. harmonious discord

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** harmonious discord

* * *

He counts two less from the original number. One which he caused, and the other which he did not. It was one of the humans. The boy. Sam? Was that his name?

But it isn't the missing two from the original number that bothers him (or maybe it is because he still feels the blade running through Eight's chest. Feels the burn of a scar branding itself into his skin. Feels the shock. Hears the screams. Smells the blood.). Rather, it is their glares of pure hatred. It is the atmosphere of full grown distrust, festering anger, and hardly concealed terror that fills up the space between them and him. It is their eyes with matching hatred that emanates off their bodies ready for a fight, and it is the distinct feeling that he does not belong, that he will never belong, because he killed one of them and to kill another of your kin is a crime never to be forgiven.

"I'm sorry," is his response to the cold stares that remind him of Marina's Legacy and the heat of anger that is exactly like John's Lumen. He stands far enough away from them as to not be attacked because he cannot seem to shed his cowardly exterior, but close enough that he can see the muscles' faint outline in Six's hands as they clench, and he notices how Nine looks poised to run at him and rip his head off himself. He is aware of how the air grows colder and he is too perceptive to miss how Sarah's hand reaches for something in her jacket.

When he swallows, a lump appears in his throat and he feels the need to back down. To run. To escape this. He ran from the Mogs and ran from his planet; running from his kin doesn't seem too surprising. But the Mogs will find him and they will kill him because he betrayed them. They will kill him and he will die having done no good in his life.

His gaze moves to the right, beside John, when he finally notices a face which he does not recognize and he had not seen before when he first approached the Garde without much thought in mind except to make them forgive him. The man is clearly a Mog from his pale skin and similar features he has seen on the Mogs he used to work for, and the mere fact that the Loric are working with a Mog would have been amusing to him — traitorous Garde and Mog and all — if he didn't feel a bitter resentment towards him. It's stupid. He has no right to feel so jealous.

He opens his mouth a second time in order to force the pleading words past his lips, but he is unable to speak. He has never felt more weak than right now.

"Give us five good reasons why we shouldn't kill you right now." Nine demands and Five clenches his fists on impulse, but then they relax because he remembers now would not be the time to start a fight. Especially when he's trying to win their trust.

This time, two words escape past his dry lips. "I can't."

Then the other trapped words tumble out of his mouth. "I can't even think of _one_ reason why you should trust me. I messed up. I _really_ messed up. I was young enough to believe the Mogs and stupid enough not to question what they were doing. I regret —" His mind tells him to stop, to prevent old wounds from opening, but he has to say this. He _has_ to acknowledge this. "I regret wanting to kill you all, and I regret killing Eight. Not a day goes by when I don't remember the scar burning itself into my ankle.

"I don't expect you to believe me right away. I don't expect you to trust me right away. Hell, I'd be surprised if you trusted me ever again. But please know that I am telling the truth. I was wrong. I was wrong, and if I could travel back in time to change what I did I would do it in a heartbeat."

Dead silence. The Loric, Mog, and two humans look at each other as if trying to determine what to make of his statement, and when they turn back to him a pit of defeat forms in his stomach, and he wishes he could use his Legacy of flight to fly away. Bur for now he refuses to give them to reassurance that he is still a coward.

Yet, at the same time, as the tension continues to build up and the lump in his throat reappears, he can't help but reluctantly feed the thought that he will never be fit to be trusted again, and that he doesn't deserve to be trusted no matter how much he'll try to repent for his faults.


	4. full moon

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** full moon

**Setting:** A few years or more after FoF.

* * *

His fellow Garde — but, really, how can he call them fellow Garde when they all throw him glares? — are the glass at his feet, threatening him of pain whenever he tries to move forward. He winces whenever they speak to him, although he tries to hide the physical reaction, and he makes sure to speak his own words carefully so he doesn't offend them. He regrets this so much, and a small part of him hates the others for not forgiving him. He has confessed that he was an idiot. He has confessed everything but they still seem to have deaf ears when it comes to him trying to admit anything.

So it's only natural that his body tenses in anticipation of a fight when he hears footsteps at his hotel room door. He prepares himself for the words (and sometimes fists) thrown at him in an attempt for the truth to come tumbling out because they _still_ don't believe him even though he's bared his soul too many times to count.

When the face of the girl who he saw crying, then attacking him with the fury of a dragon, appears when he opens the door, he is surprised. So surprised that he lets his guard down and even more surprised when she asks in a voice not yet sure, "May I come in?"

Marina looks downcast, as if she isn't sure she is doing the right thing. But Five knows for certain that Marina is the mind of reason among all of them, so if she thinks something is right then it most definitely is. He catches a small, sad smile grow on her face when he nods and opens the door a little wider. She steps in and stands in the middle of the room. Her eyes land on the muted TV first, then his face.

"You think I'm here to yell at you, don't you?" Her question is spoken like a statement. He can do nothing but nod because it's true.

"At first I did. But…" He trails off, and he doesn't know how to continue. So she continues for him.

"I'm not. I know how the others feel about you. I know how they refuse to think you're good. Even _I_ don't want to admit you're on our side now, but you've saved our lives so many times since…since then." Her words falter near the end, and he feels guilt pool through him. "I forgive you, Five."

He doesn't think about his next words. "I—what? You forgive me? After I killed Eight?" His eyes widen and he swallows. Her eyes move to the floor and he notices her posture has tensed. When her body relaxes, he notices she looks almost at peace despite the watering of her eyes.

"For so long I thought he would come back. When you say that with such finality it makes he realize that…that he isn't." He's half convinced she's going to break down crying, maybe even take out his other eye, but then she smiles. A small, fragile smile, but a smile all the same. "I forgive you for everything you've done, and I _know_ the others do, too. I forgive you." Three times she's repeated it. Three times she's repeated it and it still feels like his imagination.

When his knees buckle, she takes him in her arms and holds him as if he is a fragile child. "Thank you." He repeats the phrase over and over. It takes him a moment to realize he's never said this words with such a pure meaning behind them. "Thank you, Marina."

* * *

The next day, when they're leaving the hotel and Marina and Six are chatting away, he feels like an unwanted ghost until she catches his eye and gives him a smile that he swears is the sun in disguise.


	5. the once vivacious life

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** the once vivacious life

* * *

An abundance of vivid green grass swims close to her feet in a race to gain her affection as the eternal ball of fire hanging in the sky acts as a forgotten warrior who is too common to be actually noticed.

When the taste of his lips again floats to the top of her memory, she closes her eyes on the stagnant world in front of her so it will not see the emotions break through the core of her being. Her senses dull until she hears only the distance laugh which once brought her smiles; sees only his green eyes that hid away so many fragile, pitiful secrets; smells only the scent of him when he engulfed her in his arms; feels only his lips created exclusively for hers.

Her eyes fly open when she swears she feels his hand one her shoulder, and her heart races and her mind fills with the intangible possibility that he's home. He's home and he isn't leaving and they will kiss under the stars like they were always meant to.

Her heart sinks for what feels like the millionth time and once again it turns to ice when the realization crosses her mind, once again, that he will never come home and his eyes are now only a distant memory forever etched onto her eyelids so that she may never sleep.


	6. pax

**Title:** pax

**Setting: **Human/Angel AU.

* * *

Marina's fingers trace the scars across Six's stomach. All of them are a hue lighter than their olive skin; all of them mimic the edge of a blade. When Marina looks up at the angel's face, she sees their eyes are closed and their lips slightly parted, as if confused at the strange intimacy yet pleased. "Sword wounds?" Marina asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. There are certain blades which leave marks on even angels. Few beings wield them."

"When did you get them?"

"Eons ago. I was young and inexperienced in war."

Marina ponders another question before Six speaks. Their eyes open and hold Marina's gaze. "Why do you call me Six?" Their black hair falls in their face; Marina gently brushes it away and relishes the small smile that tugs at their lips.

She considers answering the question vaguely but knows that Six deserves an answer. "For the number of times I've died." A frown appears on Six's lips as if they are trying to recall Marina dying. She herself finds that trying to bring the memories is usually fruitless, but the sensation of how it felt always remains. "Do you know who saved me?"

"I don't. But for you to die six times and be resurrected each time holds meaning." Six's hands find Marina's they squeeze. "You're safe now."

"I know, but one day it could happen again and I wouldn't come back to life." Such a thought had come to her many times before, but this is the first time she voices her fear. Could she even call it a fear anymore? No one comes back to life – least of all six times. For all she knows she could never just _die_. She could always be resurrected, cursed to live this life over and over.

Six's hands move away from hers and they touch her face. "Even if you do not come back to life you will have done impossible things and you will finally be at peace. It will be a relief." Marina smiles, kissing Six and allowing the angel's hands to rest at her waist. They kiss her back with a slight awkwardness that does not match with the battle scars on their stomach. When Marina pulls away, Six opens their eyes, their lips quirking upward in a smile.

"I suppose it will." she admits before kissing them again, no longer barred by hesitance.


	7. lux in nocte

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** lux in nocte

A continuation of pax.

* * *

Her fingers curl into Six's hair – not purposely, but as an anchor because if she is to live in this life she must have someone holding her to the ground – and their hands grip on Marina's waist. An unspoken truth passes between them, a vow, and Six's lips part to allow something like acceptance to fall into the gap of their mouth. Marina takes Six's bottom lip between her teeth with the desire to feel something more out of these situations of random events, and a gasp escapes from Six's mouth and their eyes open. Marina pulls away, her hands moving to cup Six's face that suddenly looks so mortal.

"Is this okay?" she asks, the whisper falling off her lips. The angel nods then leans to kiss Marina again, pulling her between their legs. But Marina pull her lips away from theirs to taste Six's neck, her lips searching for the angel's pulse point because still she tries to find a reason to believe that they are human.

Six's wings unfurl as both human and angel alike sit up. Six's wings curl around the two of them, but it is Marina who they wish to protect because she is still so fragile, so full of life. Marina's arms grip the calloused skin of the angel's, and there is a moment of silence because for once there are too many secrets within the room.

"I'm sorry." And Six means it. All throughout Six's eons of living they has never been so truthful (they was never _able_ to be so truthful) but they now knows their words and they knows them to be the most honest ones they could never utter.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm so sorry." Marina's words fall from her lips in the way way which the tears do, and her eyes close because for once she would like a moment of peace.

* * *

That night, while she dreams, it is not of flight but of running, feet firmly on the ground where she belongs.


	8. lotus flowers

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** lotus flowers

Post Fall of Five.

* * *

Lips latch on to his without hesitation, speaking of desire and loneliness and every emotion in between, and Nine swears that through the sound of bodies bumping into each other unceremoniously and the thud of Five's back hitting the wall he can hear the other boy's rabid heartbeat.

Hands fall hesitantly at his waist as if Five isn't sure where to put them yet his lips still move in rhythm with Nine's with such force an onlooker would think the two are trying to devour each other. And perhaps they are. All the hatred Nine feels, all the burning anger that began to build up the second Five revealed himself as nothing but a traitor to Lorien does not manifest itself into Five's demise by guilt-ridden hands. His pent up rage does not manifest into walls of blood to paint his reoccurring dreams. He wonders why all of this had to happen to him. To his race. Because while he might be in love with the war as a whole he definitely isn't in love with all the different interlocking pieces.

So Nine pulls away first, his thoughts crashing into each other as he attempts to decipher whatever made him do that. Whatever is digging into his brain to say maybe Five isn't as shitty as Nine thought he was.

Five's lips look as enticing as they did before Nine had kissed him. Nine would have kissed him again had his eyes not moved to Five's own gaze and the flash of the blade entering Eight's chest again plays itself in front of him. A glare forms on Nine's face as he steps away from Five. Away from whatever is happening between them because Five's eye is one of a traitor. Nothing less.

But the sensation on his own lips tells him otherwise, and as he walks away from Five he finds the lack of warmth leaves him feeling more cold than he had been before.


	9. touch

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** touch

**Setting:** directly after tfof

* * *

Their hands find each other and their fingers entwine with ease. The warmth Marina's hand brings is something like a mystery to Six. They have had to grasp each other's hand thousands of times before, but now it feels so different. A flush spreads from her neck to her cheeks and she is, for once, thankful that all three of them are invisible.

She tries to focus on the path in front of her which consists of pavement and the occasional patch of grass, but new found weight in her chest won't let go of its hold on her. She suddenly feels as if a fire has begun in her chest and spread throughout her body.

And when their hands do part once they reach their destination, Six feels a strange coldness that is neither from the weather nor Marina's Legacy, but when she tries to dispel the thoughts from her mind, she cannot help but realize that she doesn't want to have to let go of Marina again.


	10. still

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** still

**Setting:** After tfof.

* * *

Eight's body shakes with silent sobs as Marina holds him through the night. His clothes are still stained bloody and caked with mud, as all of their clothes are, but his hold more weight than any of them could imagine. The others are out there somewhere, but Marina swears to the stars that this is the only night she will be selfish.

His fingers try to claw through her shirt as if he fears he will disappear if he doesn't cling tight enough. She hugs him just as strongly, but not just for her own sake.

(Marina pretends neither of them can cry because they are too afraid to.)

"Don't leave." Eight croaks. As if he had to say it in the first place. But to deny him an answer is so, so much worse than almost dying twice.

"I'm not going anywhere."

So they sit there holding each other well until the sun rises for the awakening world, but it feel all too bittersweet when the rays of light dare to touch their skin.


	11. beginning

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** beginning

**Pairing:** Sirina

**Setting:** Human!AU.

* * *

The girl across the street is an insomniac.

Marina knows this not only because the room on the second floor is always illuminated at midnight, but because they talk to each other sometimes. When the winter begins, Marina herself can't sleep because she loves how the chill sets into the air too much, so her feet take her outside so that she may taste the frost in her lungs.

The girl tends to join her on those nights, but Marina doesn't know if it's out of boredom or if they share a common interest. They usually don't talk (being in each others presence is enough for now) but when they do it's so beautifully natural. Her voice is calm and never wavers, and she always sounds so alert. Marina's on the other hand is full of life, of spirit, and maybe that's just because she couldn't find any other way to be.

They talk other times, too, but winter seems to be the season that allows them to connect. Spring too full of needless activities, summer is full of parties that aren't quite parties, and fall is full with school work and sports. But winter is when everything, everyone, begins to slow down.

And maybe that's why it works.


	12. embarrassment

**Title:** embarrassment

**Pairing:** Sarah/Six

**Setting:** Apocalypse AU.

* * *

Six's elbows rest on their knees as they lean forward, staring at Sarah as if she's the most interesting thing in the world. While their expression does nothing to betray the emotions Sarah knows they_ have_ to be feeling, their hazel eyes shine with such intensity that a shiver runs down Sarah's spine.

Defined muscles run beneath the dark skin of their arms and Sarah swallows, an action she swears she can hear more acutely than the rapid beating of her heart. A blush blooms up her neck and spreads to her cheeks; she's suddenly too aware of how all of her emotions must be playing on her face.

Sarah's never considered herself a bashful person. Never has she shied away from someone because she's embarrassed or ashamed, and she's certainly never been at a loss for words because of someone else.

Yet here she is.

Something flickers in Six's expression once Sarah's blue eyes practically fly back to theirs as they give a faint smirk. It disappears just as quickly as it had appeared, but Sarah still saw it and Six still meant it.


End file.
